


On a f*cking wing and a f*cking prayer

by TheCrazyGeek



Series: On a f*cking wing and a f*cking prayer [1]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Swearing, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got asked to write a Malcolm Tucker wingfic. When I get asked to write fic, this is what happens. Malcolm Tucker has wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a f*cking wing and a f*cking prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Given to me as a prompt over on my Tumblr blog The-Crazy-Geek.

Even Nicola would admit that this time she’d really screwed up. Not that the admission did anything to mollify Malcolm’s temper.

“Fix this? How the cunting FUCK am I supposed to fix this? Go back in time and make sure your mum took it up the arse that night? Because right now if I had a time machine that’s what I’d be doing. What the HELL were you thinking? No, don’t answer that, we both know nothing resembling thought goes on in that lump of fat between your ears” Veins throbbing on his skull and face red; Malcolm was definitely NOT happy.

“I know I messed up Malcolm! But at least I told you, gave you a bit of warning. That has to count for something?”

She’d admit later that she really should have kept her mouth shut.

“Warning? Telling me half an hour AFTER ye mentioned within hearing of that cunt Morgan that you ‘personally hate chavs’ is NOT A FUCKING WARNING.” Malcolm was past seething, past loathing and even past the level of anger that once had him run across Westminster to physically drag Hugh Abbot out of an interview.

Anger? He was past anger. He could feel his shoulder muscles burning as they clenched against his spine with the repressed urge to rip the head off the idiot in front of him. What the hell was it with these politicians doing stupid shit and then expecting him to bail them and the government the fuck out?

To make matters worse, Nicola was still talking.

“Look, it’s not that bad Malcolm, surely we can say that I was merely repeating something somebody else had said to illustrate how bigoted most people are-”

Malcolm exploded.

Literally.

Pieces of grey Armani blew in all directions and Nicola fell back onto the carpet in shock as papers and satsumas shot off Malcolm’s desk in the tumult. She scrabbled up onto her knees to try and call for help, the communications director has just exploded, and stopped in shock as a dove grey feather landed on her nose.

“Fucking brilliant, thanks a fucking bunch, it takes months for those suits to be made ye know”. Malcolm’s jacket was indeed torn to shreds, along with his shirt, the source of the destruction rearing up behind him.

A pair of grey wings were growing out of Malcolm’s back. The wingspan touching the walls on both sides of his office and a few stray feathers floating down from the explosion.

Nicola could do nothing but sit back on her heels in complete and total shock as Malcolm wrenched the last remaining pieces of his suit off and yelled for Sam.

His unflappable PA walked into the room, accepted the broken pieces of clothing and just said “I’ll get the order sorted Malcolm and there is a clean suit in the cupboard for when you’ve recovered.” Not a moment of surprise or hesitation showed on her face and she patted Nicola on the shoulder as she walked out and locked the door.

“Brilliant PA, best in the world” Malcolm smiled briefly and then rolled his eyes at Nicola still kneeling on the floor.

“Oh fucking get up woman. She’s seen it before.”

Nicola struggled to her feet and managed to make it onto the small sofa in the office. “What the hell is going on?”.

“I’m a fucking angel, you twat” Malcolm replied, brushing feathers off his chest and arms. His wings began to fold down from their full spread and tuck behind his back with the tips of the longest feathers sweeping the floor. “Me an the archangel Gabriel go out on the fucking pish every Friday didn’t ye know?”

Nicola could only sit back in shock, her mind whirling.

“Look, okay, I’m not an angel. All that sitting on clouds playin’ harp shite? Fuck that. I just got wings is all” Malcolm crossed over the office to stand near her. “Besides, my fucking halo would’ve fallen off years ago”

Her hand reached out to touch the nearest wing and he didn’t flinch or move away as she carded her fingers through the feathers. Strong, rough flight feathers leading into soft and downy ones, all springy and warm and very much alive. He only stood for a minute or so of this before he walked off over to the cupboards at the other end of the room and started searching for a clean suit.

“You see, the thing is I can hide them if I concentrate, which comes in bloody handy for not bein’ locked up for flappin’ around London without flight clearance” As he talked, his wings shrank back into his body, leaving only a couple of lines of discoloured skin on his back. “But having tae deal with total and complete fucking disasters like you are just makes me lose it”. He pulled a clean shirt on and buttoned it up before slinging a grey suit jacket identical to his earlier one over his shoulders.

“Right, that’s it. Tie can wait till later. If your legs still work you can fuck off as I’ve now got a load of work to do to save your fucking arse”

Nicola finally found her voice. “How in the hell do you show me that you have fucking WINGS and then kick me out to go back to work?”

Malcolm cocked an eyebrow at her. “Because that’s what I’ve told you to do and you know nobody but Sam would ever fucking believe you. Make one word to anyone else and I WILL find out and have you locked up in a fucking funny farm for the rest of your worthless existence”

She walked to the door in a state of complete confusion and knocked softly on it so Sam would unlock it. She’d never been so glad to see the young brunette in her life as the door opened and Malcolm’s PA handed her a mug of tea and motioned her to a chair near her desk. Nicola took the tea gratefully and sat down while Sam went to ask her boss if there was anything he needed.

“Send me over the contact details for Hislop, I fancy a pre-emptive strike against Morgan. Cheers pet”

Closing the door to Malcolm’s office and returning to sit at her desk, Sam fired off a quick succession of emails and then turned to face Nicola.

“I rather expect you to have a lot of questions”

Nicola laughed wearingly. “To put it mildly”

“And you know to not mention any of this”

All Nicola could do was agree and then sit befuddled as Sam explained just how the feared Dark Lord of Westminster had ended up being able to fly…


End file.
